


Who Knows Best?

by Minervas_Revenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 22:37:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13580367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minervas_Revenge/pseuds/Minervas_Revenge
Summary: Harry drags Hermione to Malfoy Manor for the family’s Samhain ball.





	Who Knows Best?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aleysiasnape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleysiasnape/gifts).



“Thanks, again, for coming, Hermione,” Harry said.

 

Hermione shot a sly glance at her friend. She had suspicions regarding his motives for attending the Malfoy Samhain Ball.

 

“Tell me, again, why we’re here,” she replied, eyes traveling up the imposing house’s gothic architecture as they neared the door.

 

“Draco was afraid no one would come – he asked me as a favor. And, of all the witches I know, you’re the only one who I thought might not hex me just for asking.”

 

Hermione gave Harry another glance. A witch had captured Harry’s heart. He’d told Ginny and Ginny’d told everyone else. Why couldn’t Harry just say it? He was here, hoping to see Pansy Parkinson.

 

“Right,” Hermione breathed as a skeletally-thin wizard in all black dress robes accepted Harry’s invitation scroll.

 

“Welcome,” the thin wizard droned, dark eyes looking Hermione up and down.

 

Suppressing a shudder, Hermione hurried after Harry where he had joined the throng of people waiting to move along.

 

“Malfoy needn’t have worried,” Hermione muttered, taking in the breadth of the crowd. Wizards and witches of all shapes and sizes pressed towards what Hermione assumed to be the entrance to the Malfoys’ ballroom.

 

The band was already playing. Delight at the prospect of a fun evening of dancing suddenly flooded Hermione. She’d accepted Harry’s invitation but hadn’t really considered that she might enjoy the ball. With a wide smile, she pulled Harry onto the dance floor when they made it into the large room. Harry led Hermione through a lighthearted waltz.

 

As the dance finished, Hermione joined the rest of the crowd in enthusiastic applause.

 

“Potter!” hailed a somber voice.

 

All of her elation from the dance melted and dribbled down Hermione’s spine to turn and find Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy behind her. Harry may have bonded with the former-Slytherin classmates but Hermione was undecided. Just laying eyes on the two elicited painful memories. Draco was clad in impeccable black dress robes and Pansy wore revealing red robes that shimmered with gold flecks when she moved.

 

Hermione couldn’t help herself. “You look stunning,” she said. Pansy cracked a grin and gushed her thanks.

 

“I love your shoes!” Harry cooed in falsetto at Draco.

 

Catching on quick, Draco swished his robes aside to hold up his foot. “I just bought them!”

 

Hermione felt her cheeks redden and she seriously considered turning Harry into a frog for the rest of the night. She couldn’t believe he thought Pansy would appreciate laughter at her expense.

 

Pansy cocked her hip and leaned conspiratorially towards Hermione; “I saw two lonely wizards at the bar. I say we ditch the boys.”

 

“I’m in,” Hermione quipped, more interested in the bar than the lonely wizards.

 

“Come to think of it, I’m thirsty,” Draco added, voicing Hermione’s unspoken thought. “It’s this way,” he said, leading their little group towards a packed corner.

 

Pansy winked at Hermione. It was as close to an apology as they’d get.

 

A House-elf bearing a tray with four full glasses appeared beside Draco and scurried to follow him.

 

“Master Draco,” it squeaked.

 

“Ah, thank you,” Draco replied.

 

They accepted the champagne and sipped. Hermione tried not to stare as Harry attempted small talk with Pansy; she wasn’t certain she could slip into a conversation with Malfoy. He stood beside her but he hadn’t made eye contact and seemed content to watch the crowd.

 

“Let’s have a country dance!” a voice hollered as the band ended their song.

 

Hermione could see the band in their parapet high above the dance floor. The conductor gave a nod and, the next thing she knew, Pansy had dragged Hermione to line up with the other witches. At least it was Harry across from her. She exchanged a look with Draco and realized he knew it, too. Had Harry confided in him or was it possible he was perceptive enough to pick it up? Regardless, Hermione felt herself thaw a bit towards the blond wizard.

 

As in most country dances, Hermione did end up partner to Draco. Seeking to break the ice, she looked up into his face and smiled.

 

“This is a lovely event,” Hermione said, a bit breathless with dance and nerves.

 

Draco’s eyes flickered with surprise; “Mother is meticulous.”

 

At the mention of ‘mother,’ Hermione felt a pang for her own. She missed her family.

 

“If you wish to sit out, I could hardly blame you.”

 

Draco’s brittle voice pulled Hermione’s attention back to the present. She blinked in surprise. He thought she objected to him? Her expression must have betrayed her emotions.

 

“Not at all, Draco. My parents moved away and I have not seen them in some time – I apologize for my melancholy.”

 

Hermione consciously tightened her hands on Draco as if to show she wasn’t about to let go. When Draco’s hands tightened on her in return, she gave a sudden grin. His pointed features showed relief and Hermione decided she would be friends with him. She was almost sorry to be passed to another partner.

 

A handful of dances later, Hermione was resting her feet as she sipped champagne. Harry broke into a sudden smile and Hermione guessed (correctly) that Pansy was behind her.

 

“Draco’s worn out. Dance with me, Potter?”

 

Hermione had never seen Harry move so fast without his broom. She suppressed a giggle as he leapt from his chair to follow Pansy.

 

“How about it, Granger? Dance with me?”

 

Hermione looked up at him. “Not worn out?”

 

He lifted a brow as if to say ‘You didn’t really believe that, did you?’

 

“Alright,” she said, abandoning her wine and comfortable chair. The evening was slipping away and she had a nice little buzz going.

 

Was it the alcohol that sent a thrill up Hermione’s spine as Draco drew her into his arms? Hermione glanced up at him through her lashes. He was rather handsome when he wasn’t being a prejudiced git.

 

“What do you think of those two?” she asked, at a loss for other conversation and genuinely curious.

 

“I don’t know what she sees in him,” he replied dryly.

 

Hermione grinned; “He’ll treat her like a queen.”

 

When their gazes met, Hermione remembered that Draco was a single wizard. She wondered if he knew how expressive his pale eyes were.

 

“Wish it was you? With Potter?” he asked, cautiously.

 

Hermione suppressed a laugh. “No. Wish it was you? With Potter?”

 

Draco grinned back and something changed. A tension left him. He and Hermione chatted with ease as they danced. When Draco led her into another dance, Hermione fought letting it go to her head and delighted in his company.

 

Rather than part after their second dance, as Hermione might have done from someone else, she hesitated to leave Draco’s side. Without Pansy, he’d be alone. While several partygoers glanced towards him, none approached. Hermione remained at his side and they chatted sporadically, watching the swirl of colorful robes twirling past them.

 

“It seems our dates have abandoned us,” Hermione murmured. She didn’t see Pansy’s red robes or a glint of Harry’s glasses.

 

“Are you surprised?” Draco drawled with a conspiratorial wink that made Hermione’s heart skip.

 

Hermione hid her reaction with a roll of her eyes. She was surprised but not by Harry’s disappearance with the sexy Pansy Parkinson; her surprise was that she was attracted to Draco Malfoy.

 

“It’s getting late,” she said softly.

 

“One more dance,” Draco said. “Then, I’ll let you go.”

 

A languid tune swirled through the air as Hermione settled her hand in Draco’s. Elation made her limbs feel like feathers. As Draco led her through slow steps, Hermione narrowed the distance between them. He pulled her closer and she rested her head against his chest. Hermione grinned to herself to hear his heart race. 

 

“May I cut in?”

 

The familiar voice jolted Hermione from Draco’s embrace. They separated with dizzying suddenness.

 

“Father,” Draco greeted.

 

“Dance with your mother, Draco. I’ll entertain Ms. Granger.”

 

Self-consciously, Hermione smoothed her robes and scowled in reply to Draco’s wink. The blond wizard whisked his mother away as the song picked-up in tempo.

 

“My dear,” Lucius Malfoy prompted.

 

Hermione, not without misgivings, accepted the older wizard’s hand and he expertly led her into another waltz.

 

“What are you doing with my son?” he asked in low voice.

 

Hermione looked up at him. He was worried about Draco. And her intentions.

 

“We’re friends,” she replied, feeling increasingly saucy.

 

“I see. When did this happen?” Lucius continued.

 

Hermione grinned up at him. She was no longer afraid of the wizard.

 

“Are you worried I’ll smudge his pristine reputation in wizarding society? I assure you, it’s already tarnished.”

 

Lucius laughed, shocking Hermione and those close to them.

 

He leaned close to whisper. Tendrils of warmth and discomfort warred in Hermione.

 

“Draco is innocent. I’ve assumed all responsibility for my family’s sins and been absolved.”

 

When Lucius pressed his lips to her cheek, Hermione, startled, pulled away. He flashed her an icy smile and disappeared into the dancing crowd.

 

A couple of calming breaths carried Hermione out of doors. She stood on a generous balcony overlooking the gardens. Walkways were illuminated by fairies and plant life with natural luminescence. Of all behavior, Hermione had not expected honesty from Lucius Malfoy. She’d even thought he might threaten her.

 

“Lucius Malfoy just told Draco to marry you.”

 

“Please, tell me you’re joking,” Hermione sighed, noticing that Harry’s hair was more mussed than usual.

 

“I’m joking.”

 

“Harry, be serious!”

 

“You just told me to say I’m joking,” Harry grinned.

 

Hermione glowered at him then turned her gaze back to the uncomplicated, soothing spectacle of the garden.

 

“Lucius Malfoy might be insane,” she sighed.

 

“Azkaban does funny things to people,” Harry replied.

 

“Are you ready to leave?”

 

“Yes, I’m leaving,” Harry said.

 

“Oh, good.”

 

“With Pansy.”

 

“You knob.”

 

“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly.

 

“Thank you for letting me know. Now I can leave, too.”

 

“You’re leaving?” asked Draco, appearing beside Hermione.

 

“I am. See you,” Harry quipped jovially and slipped away.

 

“See you,” Draco nodded.

 

“Well, I came with Harry…”

 

“Have a drink with me before you go.”

 

“Alright,” Hermione agreed.

 

Draco gestured towards the dim garden and a short stairwell to the grounds was illuminated. A bottle glinted in his hand.

 

“You have an amazing home. I love the garden,” Hermione said.

 

“Yeah?” Draco asked, taking a swig from his bottle and looking around, unimpressed.

 

“Are you upset about Pansy and Harry?” she asked. Something was distracting him.

 

“No,” Draco said, shaking his head and taking another sip from his bottle.

 

“What did you say to my father?” he asked sharply.

 

Ah. So, that was it.

 

“Nothing, really,” Hermione replied.

 

“Then, why did he tell me to marry you?”

 

“I haven’t the foggiest. I’m sure he was joking, Draco.”

 

“Was he?”

 

Draco was skeptical. Hermione laughed.

 

“He asked what I was doing with you, I made a smart comment, and he laughed.”

 

“Ah,” said Draco, unconvinced. He drank deep from his bottle.

 

“And he kissed my cheek,” Hermione added.

 

Draco’s gaze flashed with something that might have been anger but he chuckled and took another swig.

 

“Give it,” Hermione said, hand out for the bottle. He’d asked her to join him for a drink but showed no inclination to share. Draco held it out and Hermione grabbed it. She took a small sip and gasped. It was quite good once she knew to expect the burn of the alcohol. She took a longer pull.

 

“And, he said you’re innocent.”

 

At that, Draco met her glance. His pale eyes narrowed with intensity.

 

“You’d be an idiot to believe that and you’re not one.”

 

“I understand the pressures of family,” she said softly, sitting on a bench engraved with figures of peacocks.

 

“Why did your family move away?”

 

Hermione shot Draco a dark look. Was it possible he didn’t know? She recalled Lucius’ words and suspected he was right; Draco was innocent. At least of understanding the perspective of a Muggle-born witch.

 

“This isn’t an… Appropriate topic, Draco.”

 

“If you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine,” he said.

 

“Are you calling me chicken?” she asked and sipped from the emptying bottle.

 

“If the feathers fit,” he replied, dropping onto the seat, beside her and taking the bottle.

 

“I Obliviated my parents and sent them away to protect them from Voldemort,” Hermione replied dryly. He’d asked.

 

Draco finished the bottle before glancing at her.

 

“I walking into that, didn’t I?” he said with a humorless smile.

 

“Sprinted, more like,” Hermione replied.

 

“Do you intend to bring them back?”

 

Hermione huffed in irony. “My closest friends haven’t asked me that.”

 

“You’re talking about scar-head and the weasel…”

 

“Touché,” Hermione replied, the tiniest bit of good humor returning to her.

 

“Well..?”

 

“No. They’ve started a new family. They’re happy and it seems cruel to move them again.”

 

“A new family,” Draco repeated thoughtfully.

 

Silence fell and then a melancholy tune soared out from the ballroom windows.

 

“It’s the last song,” Draco said. He stood and held his hand out to Hermione.

 

Without pretense, he pulled her close and they swayed together. Hermione’s gaze moved over the garden and the fairies as they turned. Her mind, however, was on the wizard holding her.

 

“I’m sorry about your parents. I don’t know what I’d do without mine,” Draco said in a low tone.

 

“Thank you,” Hermione replied breathily. She was beginning to feel inebriated and realized that she was leaning quite heavily on Draco.

 

“I’m sure you’d be just fine,” she added.

 

Draco thanked her. They moved slowly together until the music ended. But, they did not separate. Hermione felt rather content where she was. She lifted her head to look up at him and found Draco staring back at her, pale eyes almost annoyed.

 

“Oh hell,” he whispered.

 

“I hate it when my father’s right.”

 

And then he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers.

**Author's Note:**

> Started: Oct 21, 2017  
> A/N: Prompt from Aleysia Snape: Samhain Malfoy Ball. It's super late but it was fun to write!! XXOO


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